


Tripod

by Serenade



Category: FRANCIS Dick - Works, Kit Fielding - Dick Francis
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Bathing/Washing, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Multi, Mutual Pining, OT3, Video Recording, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:13:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24002629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenade/pseuds/Serenade
Summary: Kit would sacrifice anything to protect Danielle and Litsi. They won't let him.
Relationships: Kit/Danielle/Litsi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10
Collections: Hurt Comfort Exchange 2020





	Tripod

**Author's Note:**

  * For [egelantier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/egelantier/gifts).



They put the phone to my ear, since my hands were restrained. The line crackled, but the voice at the other end was clear. "Kit? Are you there?" Litsi, with admirable calm and composure. Only someone who knew him well could detect the tension underneath.

"Yes. Are you safe?" I tried to match his tone. God knows if I succeeded.

"We're both fine." He meant him and Danielle.

I let out a sigh of relief. My last memory was of her white face when we swapped cars and I drove the decoy vehicle away. "Good. That's good." Cold metal touched the back of my neck. The man with the gun, reminding me of what I was supposed to say. "There's something I have to ask you. Will you do me a favour?"

"Name it," he said instantly.

"Look after her," I said. "She loves you already. She'll need you after this."

He took my meaning at once. "Kit, don't be a fool. We're going to--"

"Just be happy together," I said urgently. "You deserve it. Both of you--"

The phone was snatched away. The gun clubbed my temple. The impact made me sag in the chair, only the ropes keeping me upright.

The ringleader of the kidnappers spoke into the phone. "You know our terms. Deliver the documents, or your friend will suffer the consequences." He hung up. Then he turned his ice cold stare on me. "That was a foolish move."

I shifted in my seat. I could feel a monster of a bruise beginning to throb on my temple. "Did you honestly expect me to beg him to save my life? You don't know him very well. And you don't know me at all."

"You will learn," he said, "to be more persuasive next time."

***

I stirred awake when cold water splashed my face. My wrists ached abominably. They were chained above my head, and I had put my full weight on them when I passed out. It must have been mere moments. The thugs were still standing in the same positions. The man with the bucket of water, off to one side. The ringleader, seated in the folding chair next to the video camera on its tripod. And the man with the whip, who I couldn't see, because he was right behind me.

A lash cracked across my back. I arched involuntarily, a yelp escaping my throat. The ringleader smiled with smug satisfaction. It was the first sound he had got out of me this session.

I counted down from ten, taking deep breaths. Pain radiated from the whip strike, merging with the pain that pulsed across my whole back. The ringleader watched in amusement as I valiantly struggled to steady myself on my feet. Just as I managed to straighten, he jerked his chin. Another whip crack. I staggered, chains pulling taut, but kept my silence. Sweat trickled into my eyes.

"You could make this go so much easier," the ringleader said. "Look at him. This is your doing."

He wasn't talking to me, I realised. He wasn't talking to his men. He was talking to the video camera. It was recording everything. No need to guess who his intended audience was. My stomach churned at the thought of Danielle and Litsi being forced to witness this. I wanted to tell them not to fall for it, not to weaken their resolve, but I wasn't confident about my voice right now.

_Stay safe. Stay together. Stay far away from here._

The dark lens of the video camera stared like a baleful eye. I could only imagine the sight I presented. Stripped to the waist, barefoot and dishevelled, the slow trickle of blood and water dripping down my back. Thoroughly devastated.

I looked away from the camera. As though that could stop it looking at me.  
  


***

They threw me back in the cell afterwards.

I sprawled on the concrete floor, flat on my stomach, my back searing agony. Countless cuts marked my skin, stinging and burning, in rolling waves of pain. You could not be a jockey without knowing how to endure: falls, bruises, even broken bones. But this was different. Deliberate. Calculated.

I could not stop shivering. They had woken me with the bucket of water every time I passed out. I was cold and drenched, and there was no way to get warm. I curled sideways, wrapping my arms around myself. Hoping it would not be too soon before they came for me again. For the next session.

They would have to drag me. I didn't think I could get up.

But it was better this way. As long as they had me, they would not go after anyone else. They would assume they had the leverage they needed, to get back those incriminating documents. Danielle and Litsi would be safe.

In my dreams, the door opened. Two familiar figures stood haloed against the light. Voices called _Over here_ and _Thank god_ and _Hold on_.

 _You can't be here_ , I wanted to say. But the words would not come. Only darkness.

***

I drifted. My head rested against a warm shoulder, as I was carried along in strong arms. Litsi had carried me from the cell to the car, and from the car to the chalet. I should have said _I can walk_ , but it seemed like too much effort to even open my eyes.

"Over here," Danielle said, soft and urgent. I tried to respond, but all that came out was an incoherent groan. She had applied bandages and painkillers in the car, but they could not dispel the cold at my core. The jacket wrapped around me smelled like Litsi. It was probably expensive. It was probably ruined.

Footsteps padded from carpet to tile, echoing in a hollow space. Water hissed from a tap. Steam billowed into the air. I drew a deep breath into my aching throat, knowing it would soothe. But it was too much at once, and I coughed and sputtered. A big hand rubbed a circle against the nape of my neck.

"Easy now," Litsi said. "Just relax."

It was the kind of thing I might have said to a skittish horse, to calm and reassure it. I smiled despite myself at the irony.

Water splashed. "I think it's ready," Danielle said. "Help me, will you?"

"Of course," I murmured. I opened my eyes a fraction, to blue tiles and white marble and frosted glass lights shaped like seashells. Danielle sat on the edge of the bathtub, looking up at me with love and worry. I reached out to her but came up short. I turned to Litsi, whose face bore a similar expression. "Put me down. I can stand."

He set me down on the edge of the bathtub, next to Danielle. I swayed. Two pairs of hands immediately steadied me. I winced as my wounds protested sudden movement.

"It will be easier to do this in the bath," Danielle said. "Kit, the doctor is on his way, but we have to get you warm. Then you can sleep."

I felt half asleep already, but I made no objection as Litsi slid me carefully into the bathtub, the hot water enfolding me like a cocoon. He supported my shoulders so I would not slide under the surface, as Danielle unbuttoned the jacket.

"We have company," I said jokingly.

She drew a breath at the discoloured bruising on my ribs. "Oh, Kit. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing compared to Sunday at the races." I gave her my best smile. "It doesn't even hurt anymore." Small price to pay for protecting her happiness. I'd fallen off harder horses.

"We owe you a great deal," Litsi said. "I know just how much--" He stopped suddenly.

Danielle gasped. "Your hands--"

I craned my neck around. His hands were smeared and wet with red.

"The cuts are opening again," Litsi said. He slid the jacket off my shoulders, peeling it away slowly, as I sagged forward against Danielle. He went as gently as he could, but the fabric snagged where the blood had dried, and I had to bite my lip to suppress the flare of pain. The jacket was stained in a dozen places with dark red marks, where the wounds had bled through the bandages.

I didn't want to see the look on their faces, so I bowed my head, pretending fatigue. It wasn't hard to do. I felt like I had been turned inside out. So I sat wordless in the bathtub, while they tended to me. Litsi cleaned the cuts and changed the bandages. Danielle rinsed my hair and soaped my skin. Together, they washed away the blood and sweat and grime, letting it disappear down the drain.

***

I don't know what strings Litsi pulled. But he shielded me from the police and the press. No interviews, no interrogations. All I had to do was dictate a brief statement, which his secretary typed and I signed. I was still recuperating in bed, so they came to me, in my room in the chalet. It took less than an hour. And that was that. I would not have to appear in court or take the stand. There was plenty of other evidence to convict the kidnappers.

It was a relief. Litsi knew how much I hated a fuss. This way, I could remain out of the spotlight, while the official investigation rooted out every tendril of the crime syndicate.

The secretary departed, to send the statement to the authorities. Litsi remained, sitting by the bed, sorting through documents in several languages. I watched as he worked, knowing I could not have done what he had done. He was assured and confident, a man of a wider world than the bounds of a racecourse. A worthy match for Danielle, if I had died. _Or even now_ , an inner voice whispered. Why did we have to be rivals?

The delirium of pain had me convinced I was abandoned. But Litsi would not have left me behind, no matter what. I knew that now. Once again, I had to admire him: the substance of the man beneath the image of the prince.

He caught me staring. I looked away too late, my face heating. Damn the man. He was perceptive.

"Are you all right?" Litsi said, before immediately recognising the folly of that question. We shared ironic smiles.

"Oh, you know," I said lightly. "Nothing a good nap won't cure."

"Kit--" he said, and stopped. He was not normally at a loss for words. But he clasped my arm instead. "Welcome back," he said. Emphatic. Intense. "I mean it."

***

The chalet was an ideal retreat while I recovered. Nestled in the mountains, it combined spectacular views with every home comfort. Too restless to stay in bed, I spent most of my time shuffling around, trying to stay active by circling the corridors, and when I had exhausted my energy, trying to stay alert by reading the racing pages in the international papers.

I must have dozed off by the fire in the lounge. Because somehow it was the Grand National, and I was riding Kinley, and we soared through the air as one, flying over every fence. But the thunder of hoofbeats caught up to us, and it was like a slow motion nightmare, as a dozen horses drew level and boxed us in. I recognised the riders with a chill. _Impossible. They're under arrest._ Hands dragged me off my horse and ripped the colours from my back. I struggled to break free, but they were too many. The ringleader stood over me as his men tied me to the fence, and he held my own whip in his hand--

I jerked awake with a cry, almost falling out of the armchair. Danielle had her fingers on my arm. "I came to see if you were ready to go to bed. It's getting late."

I covered her fingers with mine, entwining them. Warm and real. I was here. I steadied my breathing, until I could meet her eyes without giving myself completely away. By her look of concern, I was fooling no one.

I heaved myself to my feet, Danielle supporting my side, trying to pretend it was an embrace. Never mind dignity, I was grateful. "You're wonderful, did you know?"

"You can tell me more tomorrow. After you get some sleep." She guided me back to my room, settling me gently onto the soft mattress. I had a bed to myself during my recovery, to avoid disturbing my injuries. But right now, being alone in the dark seemed a far worse fate.

"Will you stay?" I asked her. "Even for just a little while?" I felt slightly ridiculous, asking for company to chase away bad dreams.

"I'll stay as long as you want," she promised.

***

The international papers were not in the lounge. I went looking for them in the spare office that Litsi had borrowed for now. The papers lay on the desk with the rest of the delivered mail. A bulky manila envelope caught my eye, its edge ripped open in careless haste. It was addressed to Litsi at his official residence, in handwritten block capitals. The postmark was several days old.

I picked up the envelope. A videotape slid out.

I already knew what it was, but I had to see anyway. Part of me wanted it to be blank with snow, proof I had only imagined it all. Part of me wanted it to show me the reality, to exorcise the demons haunting my memory. I put the videotape into the VCR and pressed play. It couldn't be worse than actually living through it.

_I hung from the ceiling in chains. I had lost my footing again, during the last few lashes of the whip. My breath came in heaving gasps. When I looked up at the video camera, dazed, I only dimly registered the red light blinking. Recording._

_"Turn him," the ringleader said to his men._

_Hands gripped my shoulders. In sudden shock, I knew what they meant to do. To expose the bloody mess of my back to the video camera. My dignity was already in tatters. I would not be used that way. I planted my feet, but I had little strength and no leverage. "No--"_

_They forced me around, while I choked out useless oaths. They held me in place, like a mannequin on display. For the viewing pleasure of the ringleader, examining his handiwork. For the remorseless eye of the video camera, capturing it all--_

I was shaking but the hands on my shoulders held me steady. Litsi looked into my face, concern etched into his. "Kit. Can you hear me?"

The world started to come back. I sat on the edge of the desk. Litsi stood in front of me, keeping me upright. Danielle leaned over the VCR. She ejected the videotape, holding it like it was poisonous. She dropped it into the envelope again. "Is he all right?"

"I'm fine," I said automatically. The light through the windows had dimmed. Time had passed. Time still moved. I was no longer in that room, bracing myself for the next blow.

They exchanged a look. They were learning to read each other's minds. A talent I used to have.

"Let's sit down, Kit," Danielle said. "Litsi will get you a drink."

He poured brandy, for all three of us. It burned down my throat, but it thawed my numbness.

"You saw it," I said, in a thankfully level voice.

"Yes," Litsi said, in the same kind of even tone. "They sent more than one."

"God." I downed the whole glass. An excuse for the heat that flooded my face and ignited my skin. My wounds felt raw and exposed, like I was flayed open again. What was there to say? "You shouldn't have had to see that."

"You shouldn't have had to be there!" Danielle said fiercely. "You're not a detective or an investigator. You only got mixed up in this because of us."

Her vehemence startled me. I had expected to see pity in her eyes, not ferocity. She had witnessed me at my lowest, helpless and despairing. No amount of casual deflection or reassuring smiles would wallpaper over that knowledge. I was used to powering through pain, of getting up after every fall. If I couldn't even pretend to be fine, how could I ever manage it for real? Danielle didn't need a fiancé who shied at shadows. Racing didn't need a jockey who couldn't even look at a whip.

I had been silent too long. But they didn't push me to speak. They just sat with me: Danielle next to me, Litsi across from me. Comforting presences. Solid. Strong. Devoted. They were, I realised, the two best people I knew. And all at once, I also realised, why it mattered what I had done. I put my hands over theirs. "I couldn't have let it happen to you."

A sharp intake of breath. I wasn't sure from whom.

"You are not expendable either," Litsi said. "You risk yourself so easily, and you act like it cost you nothing. I won't ask you not to take the risk. It is the kind of man you are. But you need not hide the cost. Not from me. Not from either of us."

I let out a deep and shuddering breath. I was too exhausted to come up with a glib reply, and it would have been a deliberate rebuff of his sincere overture. "Thank you," I said. "It's a lot to get used to. I'm not myself lately."

Danielle squeezed my hand. "It takes time. You can't expect to bounce back to normal right away."

"It's what I've always done. Get back on the horse." I stared into the distance. "Just a matter of willpower."

"Not all scars are on the outside," Litsi said. "But they too require healing. They are no less real than a broken leg is real."

I couldn't help the twitch at the corner of my mouth, but I managed to suppress my response.

Danielle saw, or perhaps intuited, with that telepathy that had drawn me to her. "You've tried to walk on a broken leg, haven't you?" she accused.

"I didn't know it was broken at the time," I said, in my defence.

"Would that have stopped you?"

I shrugged, noncommittal. "Don't worry. I'm not planning to try anything like that today."

They walked me to my room. I allowed myself to lean on them. Just a bit. Just for now. Because they knew I would do the same for them.

I hesitated on the threshold. "I've been having dreams." No need to say unpleasant ones.

Danielle put a hand on my shoulder. "I'll wake you. I'll be here." A pillar of strength, grounding me in the present.

Litsi saw the shadows in my eyes, and knew the shape of my dreams. "No one will get past the doors. I'll make sure of that."

He meant, of course, that the chalet was guarded and protected. But I had the sudden conviction that he intended to stand watch outside my room this night. To keep that promise personally. Because that was the kind of man he was.

I also had the sudden conviction that he should not stand out there alone. He would be on the wrong side of the door. He belonged in here with us.

"It's warmer inside. You need rest too." I stepped sideways and gestured welcome. The blazing fire. The comfortable bed. "I'll sleep better if I know you're here."

Litsi went still. Trying to read my face. Cautious hope on his own. "Are you sure?"

I glanced at Danielle. She nodded, with a wry smile. Perhaps she had already seen the arc of our trajectory. Perhaps she knew we would get there in the end.

"Come on," I said. "There's enough room for all of us."


End file.
